And Halfway in Light
by chocolatequeen
Summary: After Crossings, Vaughn overhears a conversation


Title: And Halfway in Light Disclaimer: I don't own Alias or any of the characters therein. Rating: Oh, I don't know... PG I guess. A/N: The title comes from the song "Chim Chim Cher-ee" out of Mary Poppins. Summary: Companion to "Things Half in Shadow"  
  
I pushed open the oak and glass door, refusing to think about what I was doing. It was almost six and I'd been off work for less than thirty minutes, but instead of going home to my wife like I should, I'd come here instead... here to the bar that had been my hideout, my refuge in those weeks after we lost Syd.  
  
As I stepped inside, the familiar scent of aged wood and ale washed over me, threatening to take me back to that time yet again. Unwilling to relive anymore pain than I already was, I forcibly shook it off and approached the bar.  
  
"I'd like a scotch on the rocks please," I told the bar tender quietly.  
  
"Sure thing," he answered easily, dropping some ice into a glass and pouring a measure of scotch on top. "Anything else I can get for you?"  
  
"No thanks."  
  
"Ok, well you just me know if you need a refill," he told me as I walked along the outside wall, taking my usual booth in the corner. I ignored the offer, knowing that I wouldn't need another. I wasn't even planning to drink the one I had, it was simply a crutch—a memory device designed to send me back to a time when I thought the worst pain in life was losing the woman I loved.  
  
I was wrong, I know that now. As much as that hurt, it cannot even begin to compare to what I feel now. Seeing Sydney everyday, knowing she's there and hurting, but not being able to be with her, to be there for her... that is the worst torture I could ever imagine.  
  
At least when she was with SD-6 and we couldn't be together, I was at least able to be her confidante. Now even that small comfort is gone. Instead of making her feel better, every time I talked to her, it just reminds her of what we'd lost.  
  
So now I sit here, using old pain to purge myself of recent memories. Maybe if I focus on the hurt I felt when she left, it will momentarily blind me to the hurt I feel now. It sounds ridiculous I know, and more than a little masochistic, but I can't live with life the way it is right now.  
  
In the middle of my misery induced haze, I could hear a conversation between the bartender and another customer, a woman. Her first words were too low for me to catch, but something about her voice drew my attention.  
  
"Only if you'll let me join you," the bartender said in reply to her question.  
  
"Drinking on the job?" she asked, and my eyes slid shut in disbelief. I would recognize that voice anywhere; that sweet mix of strength and softness... it was Sydney.  
  
"Soda water. Come on, I'm due for a break anyway," he cajoled.  
  
"Well..." I could picture the look on her face, the slight frown and downcast eyes as she made up her mind.[i] "Say no Sydney,"[/i] I pleaded quietly, not wanting to hear the conversation that would inevitably follow. "I guess," she finally answered reluctantly, forcing a soft groan from my lips.  
  
"Good then. Another brandy for the lady, and soda water for me." My brow wrinkled in surprise. Syd doesn't usually drink brandy, at least not when she's upset.  
  
"Actually, do you have any red wine?" she asked, and I knew my fate was sealed. That was her typical drink, what she wanted when she needed to decompress and think about what was bothering her. Even though she was quiet right now, I knew she'd talk to him.  
  
At that moment, I wanted nothing less than to hear this conversation. I peered around the corner of my booth, hoping that I could sneak out, but there was no way I could leave without her seeing me. If she saw me there, she'd close everything up inside of herself instead of finally letting someone listen. I wasn't going to take that away from her, so I just settled back into my seat, trying not to hear what they were saying.  
  
I stared into my scotch, and for a few minutes their voices faded into background noise. They were quiet for a moment and I thought that maybe I'd be spared listening to her share her pain with a stranger, but then she asked another question.  
  
"Have you ever known something you wished wasn't true?"  
  
Her voice was so soft there was no way I should have been able to hear it, but I did. Either I have a second sense for knowing when she needs a friendly ear, or someone up there just doesn't like me very much. Of all the things I could have heard, why did it have to be that?  
  
"Sure," the bartender said slowly. "I suppose we all have. I mean, there's a reason for the phrase, "Ignorance is bliss," right?"  
  
I could tell from his tone that he didn't quite get what she was talking about, nor did he know that was the worst thing he could have said. "Yeah... I guess so," she whispered, and the anguish I heard in those words pierced my heart.  
  
"Why don't you set that down before you hurt yourself and tell me what this is all about?" he asked, and a second later I heard him put her glass on the bar.  
  
I waited for her to speak again, praying she wouldn't say what I knew she would. If there was anyone looking out for me then... "I guess the problem is that I do want it to be true," she said softly, killing all hopes I had of making it through the evening without tears.  
  
"M-hm... Let's start at the beginning of the story." I snorted derisively—he had no idea what he was asking. There are two beginnings to this story, because it had a false end in between.  
  
"Right. The beginning... well, I guess it began when I... I had to leave town for a while. It happened fast, I didn't have time to tell anyone where I was. Not long afterwards, I lost my memory. I didn't know who or what I was, I didn't have any way to get home... back to my family."  
  
Despite my own inner turmoil, I had to marvel again at her ability to spin a story. She'd given him the gist of what had happened without mentioning any details that would arouse curiosity.  
  
"That's rough. But you did regain your memory?"  
  
"Yes, but when I finally came home, nothing was the same. I'd been gone for two years. My old house was gone, my car was gone, my friends had moved..."  
  
She stopped there and I hoped for a moment that I would be spared the heartache of listening to any more of the story. "And what else?" he asked, killing that idea.  
  
I was still plotting ways to kill him when she answered faintly. "My boyfriend was married."  
  
My eyes shut once more, but this time two tears slipped out from beneath the lids. Of all the regrets I have in life, none of them compare to this. Why couldn't I have waited? Why couldn't I have hoped she was alive, or looked for her killers? Jack didn't give up, why did I?  
  
When the bartender spoke again, his words echoed my own thoughts. "Why did he do that? Didn't he know you were out there, looking for him?"  
  
"He thought... they all thought... everyone thought I was dead. I'd been missing for so long, it was the only logical conclusion. They buried me and started to move on with their lives." [i] "But that was no excuse Sydney!"[/i] I screamed silently.[i] "I should have looked, I should have tried... I should have waited!"[/i]  
  
"But still, you said you were only gone for two years. That's awfully fast to move on all the way to marriage! If he loved you..."  
  
"He did love me!" she retorted. "Enough that when I died... when he thought I was dead... when he lost me, it nearly killed him. His friend told me he left the country for six months, just drinking his way through Europe... he loves me," she whispered finally, her fit of pique finished.  
  
Shoving my glass aside, I propped my elbows up on the table and put my face in my hands. She was [i]defending[/i] me!! Here was this man, this stranger, telling her everything I was thinking, and she was defending me. "I don't deserve this kind of devotion," I whispered through my tears.  
  
I was so awed by what I had heard that I almost missed the next part. "He loves you? That's what you know, that you wish you didn't." Well thank you Sherlock Holmes!! And now for the one-two punch... "You can't have an affair with him."  
  
Why is it that everyone thinks we're going to have an affair? Jack, my wife, now even this stranger. I would never do something like that, I'm better than that... aren't I?  
  
"What? What are you talking about?" she asked, bewildered.  
  
"Well that's why you're here isn't it? He told you he never stopped loving you, marrying his wife was a mistake, can't you just pick up where you left off... you know, the whole spiel."  
  
"No. No, that's not it at all. Vaughn would never cheat on Lauren, and even if he would I wouldn't let him," she said firmly.  
  
I half expected to hear a snort of disbelief. I'm sure he's heard that a million times before, from people with stories much less messed up than ours. But apparently something in her tone convinced him, and he just asked, "Then why...?"  
  
"He wasn't planning to tell me," she explained softly, and I could hear the bittersweet smile in her voice. "But there was a situation... it's hard to explain, but he thought he'd never have the chance to tell the truth. He didn't want everything to end that way, with a lie... so he told me. Now things are better again..."  
  
"But you have to live with the knowledge, where before it was just a shadow of belief," he finished for her.  
  
"Exactly," she said. "It was so much easier when I just knew, without really knowing. And we work together, all three of us—"  
  
"The wife too?".  
  
"M-hm. So everyday I see them together. It hurts so much, but now, knowing that it's hurting him just as much..."  
  
The misery and tears I heard in her voice nearly killed me. When I'd told her that she would always be my one and only, I foolishly thought it would help. But now, listening to her tell a stranger how much she wishes she didn't know... now I realize that what I was really trying to do was ease my own guilt over never having told her before. I didn't say it for her, I said it for me, and now my selfishness is causing her even more pain than I'd already put her through.  
  
"And you claim to love her," I muttered, angrily wiping the tears from my face. "Well you sure did a great job of showing her... let's see, the Michael Vaughn guide to sweeping a woman off her feet: First, marry someone else. Then when she comes back from the dead, tell her you don't regret moving on. After that, make sure you run hot and cold with her so she never knows what to expect, and then once you've got her convinced you're a real bastard, tell her you never stopped loving her. Yep, way to go Mike," I said derisively.  
  
"... Believe me, if you've survived the things you just told me about, you can make it through this."  
  
"Thanks," she said. "I guess I should go home now, I have to go into work in the morning. Will this cover the tab?" she asked.  
  
"That's more than enough," he assured her.  
  
"Keep the change, as payment for lending an ear," she said and left.  
  
I heard him follow her to the door and turned the sign around and I knew that was my sign to get moving. I hadn't planned to be here so long, I hadn't told Lauren where I was. I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing as I thought about what her reaction was likely to be.  
  
"Excuse me, can I get anything else for you sir?" the bartender asked when he saw me.  
  
I stared at him blankly for a moment, my mind in overload. "Oh... no, I should be going home. Have a nice night," I replied once his question registered.  
  
I was just pulling my coat on when my phone rang. "Vaughn," I said, trying to hide the weariness in my voice. I was fairly sure the caller was Lauren, and I didn't want her to hear my weakness.  
  
"Michael, where are you?" she asked sharply. "It's after midnight!"  
  
"I know, I didn't realize how late it was," I said, biting my lip to keep from telling her that I wouldn't have cared even if I had.  
  
"The dark sky didn't give you a clue?" she asked sarcastically.  
  
"I'm sorry Lauren, I'll be home as soon as I can," I said brusquely and hung up without saying goodbye. I slipped the phone back in my pocket and put my hand on the door. Tossing a glance over my shoulder at the dimly lit bar, I realized that the memories here would no longer ease the pain in my life. Now all they did was bring every hurt to light... and some things just need to stay in the shadows. 


End file.
